Wailing Widow
by Golden Truth Bearer
Summary: This fanfic will follow the main quest of Skyrim with Widowmaker as the main character. There will be deviations from the main story, but everything will be adjusted to stay true to Skyrim's lore. And perhaps more surprises will come up as the story progresses. For now the story is T, but it may change to M because I like writing descriptive scenes, especially deaths.
1. Helgen

**Hello, everyone**

 **A couple of days ago** **after hours of playing Overwatch** **I decided to start yet another new game of Skyrim, just for fun. And that's when I came up with the concept for this story.  
** **This is only chapter One, but more will come soon.**

 **Hope you will enjoy it!**

* * *

 _Some things aren't explained from the start, there will be explanation about them in future chapters._

 _Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction meant for fun. I do not own Overwatch or Elder Scrolls series, all rights belong to their respective creators, Blizzard and Bethesda. I claim the plot for this story though._

* * *

She blinked her eyes and slowly lifted her head. Her vision was still blurry.

"Hey! You're finally awake! You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us and that thief over there."

"Ugh….egh…" She heard a man talking. She was not sure if he was talking to her. She blinked a couple more times, her vision became clearer, she noticed some trees covered in snow.

"Damn you Stormcloaks! Skyrim was nice back then! Empire was nice and lazy until you came along."

She looked around and saw that she was on a horse carriage, along with three other men. One of them was muffled and dressed in a somewhat aristocratic outfit made of animal fur; from one look at him she could tell that he had the aura of a leader. The other one was clearly a common soldier, he wore a studded leather armor and a blue, tattered, wool blouse underneath and finally the third one…

"You there! You and me, we shouldn't be here. It's those Stormcloaks that the empire wants."

The third one - who was talking to her apparently - was the kind of people whom she despised the most, a petty common thug. And even though she could not _feel_ any hate now or any kind of emotion, a grimace of disgust still formed on her face instinctively without her realizing it.

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief!"

"Shut up back there!" The soldier driving the carriage shouted annoyed.

She noticed that her arms were bound – a weak knot, she could easily untangle it behind her back and escape, but there was another problem. She lacked the rest of her equipment. The soldiers who captured her had stripped her of all her clothing and had worn some rags on her.

* * *

 **Some hours earlier**

 _"_ _Open fire"_ The imperial commander gave a silent signal to his men.

A rain of arrows from atop the hill bombarded the Stormcloak squad who were marching under the veil of the night. They were only a few miles outside the village of Riverwood near the Skyrim-Cyrodill border.

"An Ambush! It's the Imper—gah…" The Stormcloak soldier who tried to alert his comrades fell on the ground choking on his blood as a steel arrow pierced his neck.

"To arms!" Shouted Ulfric Stormcloak the leader of the rebellion in Skyrim.

He and a company of his most trusted and finest men were heading to Bruma for a secret meeting with allies who were willing to fund his cause. What he didn't know was that that meeting was a trap that the Empire had been laying for years now.

The Stormcloak soldiers fought valiantly and despite their strength and Ulfric power of Thu'um, they were quickly overwhelmed. Most of them died while the rest fell wounded on the ground, left on the mercy of their enemies.

 _Boom_

After the fight had settled down and they were in the process of tying up the prisoners, a group of Imperials noticed a blue flash nearby and the sound of a small explosion reached their ears. So they went to investigate.

"What's that?"

"Is this a woman?"

"What she wearing?"

Widowmaker shook her head and looked around, she was taken aback for a moment when she noticed that she had landed in a completely strange place. She guessed that her battle with that obnoxious girl from Overwatch was the cause of her being here, but now was not the time for self-contemplating. She had other things to worry for now.

She quickly inspected her surroundings and saw no high ground where she could hook her grappler and escape, the only solution left was brute force. She saw the five armed men approaching her and she immediately recognized them as threats. Their archaic choice of attire didn't seem to bother her a bit – it was of course due to Talon's indoctrination which had killed all her feelings and emotions.

"Is she a Stormcloak…?" A soldier mumbled.

"Hey you! Hands where I can see them!" the Imperial soldier yelled at her and pointed his crude sword near her chest.

She slowly stood up and raised her hands.

"Now turn around!

She obeyed willingly and turned her back at him with her hands still raised.

" _Gulp…_ " The man was slightly taken aback by her seemingly perfect backside, but regained his composure.  
" I will tie you up now. No funny business or you will end up just like-guh"

With a quick reverse chop on his solar plexus which left him gasping for breath and a powerful, follow-up roundhouse kick on his chin, Widowmaker knocked the imperial soldier unconscious.

"Get her!"

Of course the other four were not about to let that go unpunished, but before they had time to draw their swords Widowmaker had managed to close in the distance between them. She went for the one closest to her.  
She leaped at him and with a flying knee on the face, she took him out instantly; using her momentum she swiped the legs of the soldier next to her and then stomped hard on his head with her boot, fracturing his neck in process.

The other two watched with terror in their eyes as their poor friend was lying helpless on the floor convulsing like a fish out of the water due to lack of oxygen, but they did not run away, instead they charged at her, swords in hands.

Those soldiers had definitely underwent some basic combat training, she could tell from the way they swung their swords. But their skill was nowhere enough of that she was used to fight. Specifically when one of for her most exhilarating fights was against that cyborg agent of Overwatch who yielded a Japanese katana with deadly precision and could even deflect her bullets with it.

The two men surrounded her and thrust their swords; one aiming for her chest and the other for her stomach area. She blocked the frontal assailant with her grapple hook and with a reverse turning kick knocked the weapon of the soldier coming from behind.

She performed an uppercut with the pointy end of her grappling hook, cleanly piercing the jaw of the unfortunate soldier, nearly destroying his whole lower jaw. The last one tried to run away and called out for aid.

"Help! We're bein attac _—gah…._ "

She fired her grapple hook, tangling his legs causing him to trip and fall head first on a nearby a boulder; a merciful elimination compared to his fellow soldiers, but she was too slow, she had been compromised.

She heard people's voices from up ahead and decided to run the other way, but as she was about to make her escape, a big group of soldiers had arrived from that route; they were the rest of the Imperial squad who had been sent ahead in order to block any escape routes for the Stormcloaks. They saw the bodies of their fellow comrades lying around her and immediately drew their blades and moved into position to surround her.

"In the name of Emperor, stop right there!" A man shouted threateningly at her.

He was the only wearing a metal armor, so she assumed that he must had been some sort of an officer.

Widowmaker was deadly in hand to hand combat, but even her was unable to take on 20 armored enemies simultaneously. She bolted towards the opposite direction hoping that there will be less resistance, but she was met with fifteen arrowheads pointed at her.

"Tsk…" She clicked her tongue and raised her hands.

"What is going on here?" Another man in metal armor showed up from behind the archers. This one had regalia on his armor, so she assumed that he must had been their leader.

"Sir…" the younger man in the armor stepped forth.  
"We found that woman standing near the bodies of five imperial soldiers. Two of them are dead and the other three are in critical condition, they won't make it probably. They were no Stormcloaks nearby so we concluded that she must had attacked them." the man said in a clear voice.

"Hmm…" the man with the regalia armor approached her and took a good look at her. His gray, tired eyes met with her dead, yellow pupils of hers.  
"Why did you kill them?" he asked in a calm yet imposing tone.

Widowmaker didn't say anything and just smirked at the old man. An action which enraged the old veteran , realizing that his subordinates had died for nothing.

"You bitch!" he yelled and punched her with the protruded edge of his steel gauntlet on the face, knocking Widowmaker down.

Immediately two soldiers rushed to stop him and took him away from her. The younger man in armor approached her and grabbed her by the wrist. He violently lifted her up with one arm and with the other grabbed her head and made her look him in the eyes. The blood from her cheek dripped on his arm.

"For the unjust and brutal murder of two Imperial soldiers you are hereby sentenced to death by beheading without a trial….May the Eight have mercy on your soul because we won't."

Again Widowmaker remained silent and emotionless.

"Huh….take her away! She will be taken to Helgen where she will be executed with the rest of the traitors. " He said tossing her aside.

Four armed soldiers rushed to restrain her while she was down.  
"Bitch might be crazy, but she sure looks fine." One of them said as she started groping her in places.

"We will make sure that you wish that you were dead, whore."

What ensued was nothing worse than what she had been used to. Whatever those soldiers did to her was insignificant compared to what she had suffered at the hands of Talon during her indoctrination. Though she still passed out in the process because the meds which she had been taking to suppress the pain wore off.

* * *

 **Now,**

"What's up with him?" the man in rags asked, pointing with his chin at the muffled man with the royal outfit.

"Watch your tongue! You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the True High King of Skyrim!" The soldier in blue suddenly snapped at him.

"Ulfric? But if they got him…Oh gods, where are they taking us?" the man in rags spoke in a shaky voice.

"I don't know where we are going, but Sovengarde awaits…" the soldier said in a stern tone. "Tell me…what village are you from horse thief?" The soldier asked the man in rags an unexpected question.

"Huh? Why do you care?" he asked half- angry, half confused.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home…" The soldier said calmly.

"I-I am from Rorikstead…Lokir of Rorikstead" the man replied after a brief pause.

"I am Ralof, from Riverwood!" The soldier answered briskly.

Widowmaker who was observing them quietly noticed that the speed of the carriage was slowing down.

"W-why are we stopping?" Lokir asked in shaky voice.

"Why do you think? End of the line…" Ralof said without averting his gaze from the snowy mountains behind them.

"Shor, Dibella, Mara, Kynareth, Akatosh…Divines please help me!" Lokir shouted; but his cry for aid was in vain, no god was going to save him today.

Widowmaker's gaze fell on some people on horses. She noticed that their outfits were different from the rest, probably some sort of officials.

"Hmpph… look at him. General Tulius, the military governor and it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves! I bet that they had something to do with this."

" _Did he say elves…?_ "

Finally the cart stopped and two soldiers in metal armor approached them, a man and a woman. Widowmaker's gaze focused on the man, she recognized him. He was the one from from before, the young one.

"As we call out your names you will go stand over there." The woman in armor told them in a commanding voice and then nodded at the man beside her.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm!"

The muffled man from the cart stepped forth and walked to the designated place.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." Widowmaker heard Ralof mumbling.

"Ralof of Riverwood."

Ralof accepting his fate followed after Ulfric with his head high.

"Lokir of Rorikstead!"

"No! I am not one of them! I am not a rebel, you can't do this!" The man in rags shouted and immediately started running.

"Halt!" The armor clad woman shouted, but he didn't stop.

"You are not going to kill me-" Lokir shouted.

"Archers!" The woman said raising her arm.

"I will be free! I will be free! I will-guh…grulp…" Loki fell down as two arrows pierced his body, one his belly and one his neck.

"Hmmph…anyone else fell like running…?" _Silence._ "Go on…" She nodded at the man.

"You! To the block with the rest!" The man said at Widowmaker.

"Doesn't that woman have a name?" The female officer asked.

"No…she hasn't spoken since we captured her." He replied.

"What's her crime?" The woman asked with a bit of curiosity in her voice.

"That woman murdered five Imperial soldiers. She killed two on sight and the other three succumbed to their wounds after a couple of hours." The man said, tightening his fist.

Widowmaker's feat didn't go unnoticed among the captured Stormcloaks who started cheering for her. The last time anyone had cheered for her was when she dancing for the National Ballet of France as the lead dancer. She still remembered the day, but she could not recall the feeling.

"To the block, scum!" The woman said to Widowmaker in a hateful tone.

She obeyed willingly and joined the rest who gave her a warm welcome, but Widomaker's attention was elsewhere. She noticed from afar that the elderly man in armor whom Ralof had called _general Tullius_ before, was handing to those Thalmor people her outfit along with her grapple hook and the small cylindrical container where she stored her venom mines.

" _Merde…._ "

She needed to escape if she was going to have her equipment back. She needed a distraction or else she would end up like Swiss cheese. She decided to wait for now, it didn't seem that they were going anywhere.

"Oh for the love of Talos. Shut the hell up and let's get this over with!" one Stormcloak soldier interrupted the priest who was giving them their last rites.

"As you wish…" the woman priest said in a somewhat annoyed tone.

"My ancestors are smiling at me Imperials, can you say the same?" The soldier in blue taunted them as he approached the executioner.

He fell on his knees and placed his head on the bloodied wooden log. Next to it, the executioner awaited with his man-sized axe at hand. A crude and barbaric weapon, but efficient anyhow. A sense of excitement surged from within her; a feeling similar to when she was killing people. It was strange because she had witnessed people getting executed before by others, usually with a bullet on the head, but up until now she hadn't felt like that.

The executioner raised his axe slowly and brought it down swiftly. A clean cut, the head of the unfortunate soldier fell on a straw basket which had been placed there beforehand and his body collapsed lifelessly on the ground. Widowmaker's eyes were fixed on the blade at first and then at the twitching body of the man.

"Next the murderer!" The woman in armor said, pointing at Widowmaker.

" _C'est la vie! Looks like I have to improvise now!_ "

She walked towards the block when she heard a loud roar from afar.

"What was that?" A soldier asked.

"It was probably the wind, carry on." The armored woman said.

But Widowmaker was sure that was not the case. Talon had installed various cybernetic enhancements in her body, including better vision and hearing. She was sure that the roar she heard belonged to something big and it was coming this way, it was only a matter of seconds.

"Put your head on the block prisoner!" The woman said to her.

Widowmaker did as instructed though in a somewhat slow pace. She finally placed her head on the block and waited, no change on her expression whatsoever.

 _Roar_

"There it is again! You heard it right?" the soldier asked his comrades in a panicked voice.

The woman in armor looked a bit concerned as well, but decided to focus on the task at hand and nodded at the executioner to carry on. The man in the black hood raised his axe once more, but just as he brought it down, Widowmaker rolled to the side, avoiding the fatal blow. And with a spinning, capoeira kick from the ground – she delivered a crushing blow on his chin.

For a moment, everyone was taken aback by the stunning manner which she took out the executioner. Wasting no time Widowmaker broke into a run. Her targets were the Thalmor on the horses who had her equipment.

"Guards get her!" The woman shouted.

As the soldiers drew their bows and aimed at her, a piercing thunder boomed across the place, followed by a beastly cry, causing them to lose their focus and miss the shot. The noise frightened the horses as well - one of them even dropped its rider as it rose on its two feet - and with their riders unable to calm them down the horses sprinted towards the exit of the fortress. By the time she arrived where they were a moment ago, they were all gone; all except for the man who fell off his horse.

Before the archers could draw a second arrow from their quivers, a voice filled with despair from atop of the fortress' walls reached their ears.  
"W-what in Oblivion is that? "

"Sentries, what do you see?" the woman in armor asked in a loud voice.

"D-Dragon!"

Widowmaker noticed that the sky looked grim and then she saw the most unbelievable thing. A dragon flew over her head and landed atop of nearby tower, causing a mini-earthquake upon impact.

The dragon spread its black as the night wings and roared, the clouds on the sky started twirling and the heavens cried out; lightings, closely followed by a thunder struck the nearby wooden houses and set them on fire. And as if that was not enough, flaming meteors started raining down on them.

"Magnifique…" Widowmaker whispered under her breath as she saw people burning alive or getting crushed by falling rocks before her eyes.

But her excitement was short-lived, she quickly snapped back to reality when she saw that the black robed man was making a run for the exit. She dashed towards him and with a diving tackle she pinned him on the ground with her on top of him.

The man flailed around.  
"What do you think you are doing? Do you know who I am? I am a high ranking Thalmor officer, if you don't release me at once I-AAAaaaah " he screamed in pain as Widowmaker broke four of his fingers on his left hand to make him shut up.

"Where did you take those things you received from the general?" She asked in a clearly, threatening voice.

"Aaah…do you think that pain will make me talk?" He said still; writhing in agony.

"Yes…" She said with a bored expression on her face while snapping one more of his fingers on his right hand.

"Aaargh….the embassy…we were taking them to the Thalmor embassy…to Elenwen…"

"Where is that embassy located?" She asked him in a cold voice.

"West of Solitude, at the base of the mountains…please let me go now" The hooded man begged her to release him.  
"I am just a simple soldier. I lied, I am no official !I was just stationed here and this was my first - _crack_ "

"What an annoyance…" She said, standing up after having broken the man's neck with her bare hands.

She had accomplished her goal and her next destination was known, she now needed to escape this place. But seeing as the entrance to the stone fortress, from which the carriage had entered had been blocked by flaming rubble, Widowmaker decided to follow some Stormcloak soldiers who were entering the stone keep. She moved stealthily across the courtyard as to avoid the Imperials. Not that anyone was paying any attention to her right now, half of them were busy shooting arrows to the dragon while the rest were trying to survive. Before entering the keep she took one last good look at the flame-spitting beast as if she wanted to etch its image on her memory.

She half opened the door and the first thing she saw was two Imperials ganking up on a Stormcloak soldier; she noticed that he was the man who was riding the carriage with her, Ralof. She knew that it would be to her best interest to help him, after all the imperials wanted to execute her and that man could help her find her next destination.

She burst through the entrance and equipped with a fancy looking dagger which she had looted from the Thalmor she killed; she stabbed one soldier through the neck and smacked the head of the other against the wall before piercing his skull through his eyeball. She looked at Ralof who stared back at his savior's expressionless face in total surprise. She prompted him to move as she started descending the stone staircase which lead to the cellar.

Ralof and Widowmaker pushed onwards searching for an exit, while also eliminating any Imperials who were unfortunate enough to cross them - even though it was Widowmaker who was doing all of the killing and Ralof basically was standing there, watching. Their road lead them to a cave which was connected to the underground tunnels of the fortress.

Moving forward Widowmaker and Ralof found themselves in a room full of spider-webs, and after they had taken a few steps inside the room, several frost-bite spiders descended from the ceiling.

"Ugh…" Widowmaker uttered and stepped away from them.

Ralof was genuinely surprised with her reaction. The woman who up until now had slaughtered without breaking a sweat or showing any emotion whatsoever several armored Imperial soldiers with a single dagger was afraid of an opponent like that. Sure if it was an adult frost-bite spider whose poison can freeze your blood, he too would be scared, but those were mere hatchlings, one swing was enough to cleave them in half and their poison would at worst give you a small frostbite.

The frost-spiders surrounded them and started spitting poison from their mouths. Widowmaker avoided the first two spits, but she was too preoccupied with the spiders to dodge the third and the fourth ones which splashed on her arm.

"Kuh…" she grunted.

"Die beasts!" Ralof shouted and with his axe at hand charged at the spiders, after a few good swings they were all dead.

Widowmaker scanned the place and saw a small side passage from which she felt air blowing. Without saying anything she headed towards it when she felt someone grabbing her wrist. She stopped and turned to face Ralof without saying anything.

"I have a healing potion for your wound. Here take it, it will soothe the pain from the poison and heal the frostbite more quickly"  
He said handing her over a small vial with red liquid in it. He then realized that he was holding her hand for too long and let go, but Widowmaker hesitated and instead eyed its content suspiciously.

"It's okay you can drink it. It's not poison if that's what you are afraid. I'll drink too if you worried." He said and gulped down two sips, before attempting to pass it over one more time.

This time she took it and drank it. It was tasteless as every other food and drink which she had eaten or drunk after she lost the sense of taste and smell after her indoctrination. And even though the potion did nothing for her non-existent pain, she noticed _surprised_ that after drinking it her injury was gone in a matter of seconds.

"Feeling better?" Ralof asked.

She didn't say anything and turned to leave, Ralof followed quietly after her. The side passage which they had chosen did indeed take them to the surface and after a few minutes walk they found the exit, unfortunately a huge bear was sleeping near it. They tried to sneak by, but due to a Ralof's misstep the bear woke up and charged at them. Unfortunately for the bear though, her opponent was Widowmaker, the bear stood no chance. Ultimately she fell lifeless on the ground with a dagger stuck on its neck. Again Ralof was just a witness to all that.

"So you are okay taking on armored soldier sand huge bears, but you are afraid of those tiny spiders?" He asked in a teasing tone.

" _Tiny…? Those were tiny?_ " She thought to herself, before turning her back on him and heading for the exit.

"Hey, wait! I didn't mean to offend you, I only said a joke to lighten the mood –" he paused.  
"Listen, once we get out I am guessing that you will probably go your own way, but I want you to know that I am truly grateful for your help. I wouldn't have made it on my own.  
Thank you …"

For a moment there, Widowmaker suffered a mini _brain-freeze_. She couldn't believe the words she just heard were directed at her. All the pain, cruelty and suffering which she had experienced during her brainwashing had left her an empty, hollow husk of her past self. She was now a cold, emotionless killing machine who only found excitement in killing people; and she had murdered a lot, among other things. And now there was someone who was actually expressing his gratitude at her. Deep down she knew that he only did it because she saved his life but still, this was the first time someone had thanked her for anything in a long time. He was from a different world apparently which meant that he didn't know who she was, but still his words had an effect on her.

She stopped right on her tracks, turned around and looked at him. "Thalmor embassy, Solitude. How do I go there?"

Ralof blinked surprised. "You can talk…? No, more importantly what do you want to do in the Thalmor embassy, you can't be working with them or you wouldn't be getting executed. That's a dangerous place, you shouldn't go there." Ralof said to her in a concerned tone

She remained silent and turned around. "Wait!" Ralof said when she saw her walking away.  
"I don't know where exactly the embassy is, but If you want to go to Solitude you can hire a carriage, there are usually carriages available at the gates of each Hold's capitals.  
The closest capital from here is Whiterun. It's just past my hometown, Riverwood. I am heading there right now to inform them about the dragon and rest for a few days before rejoining my comrades. You are welcome to join me if you want. My family will be more than happy to accommodate you."

Widowmaker didn't say anything and just nodded at his offer. They stepped out of the cave and together they began walking towards Riverwood.

While she didn't realize it yet, something inside her had changed after arriving in this place. She would eventually take notice of it, one way or another, fate would make sure of it.

* * *

 **And so that's chapter one!**

 **Don't hesitate to tell me your thoughts!**


	2. Riverwood

**Chapter 2 is up!**

This chapter turned out a bit bigger than I had originally anticipated. I made some changes in Riverwood (You'll see what I mean ;) and I also added some backstory for Widowmaker - of course this is my version her life story since we know very little of her regarding her pre-Talon life.

Anyway, have fun and don't hesitate to share your thoughts! :D

* * *

Ralof and Widomaker exited the cave and with brisk pace they started walking down the mountain slope; Ralof told her that his hometown, Riverwood was no longer than an hour's walk after they would get on the main road.

He was walking in the front, clearing the way off any bushes with his axe and also made sure that the ground was relative safe for stepping on since he was the only wearing boots. Widowmaker had not sensed any threats nearby so he let him do his thing and followed close by. They came to a clearing where Ralof stopped.

" _Huff…_ " He exhaled tired.  
" _I really need to get this axe sharpened when I get back to camp. I even have trouble cutting down some bushes…_ " He turned around and smiled reassuringly at Widowmaker; he didn't want to look like a milkdrinker in front of her.

Yet she remained as expressionless as ever. In fact the moment she saw him slowing down she thought of taking the lead, but then something caught her eye. She walked over to the edge of the clearing and gazed at the majestic scenery before them.

On her left stretched the grand lake Ilinalta of Falkreath. And on her right, several tall pine trees and green lush grass decorated the slope of the snowy mountain at the opposite side. Yet even among all this natural beauty Widowmaker was void of any emotions.

"Enjoying the scenery?" said Ralof who had found his breath.  
He walked next to her and for a few moments the two of them appreciated the view together in silence – one of them at least.  
"You see that building at the top of the mountain, that's Bleak Falls Barrow. It used to give me nightmares when I was a kid…  
Draughrs creeping inside my room and all that… _hehe_ "

She had no idea what he was referring to, but she didn't bother asking.

"And lake Ilinalta, a beautiful place to visit during spring or go for a swim during summer …."  
"I hope that war won't come to this place." he said in a low and somewhat sad voice after a brief pause.

Widowmaker remained quiet as usual, even though she could not feel any sympathy for him she understood his fear. The war with the Omnics had caused large environmental destruction on Earth and that was the reason Overwatch had assembled a brilliant team of eco-scientists to help preserve what was left. Of course that was almost a decade ago, before her eventful transformation. She later learnt from Talon's intelligence that only one of those scientists made it out alive from that expedition.

"Let' get going." Ralof said and hastily made his way down the mountain path.

They soon reached the main road and followed the water stream from lake Ilinalta. Widowmaker noticed that there were a lot of wild animals in the surrounding area – rabbits, goats, deers, elks, she even spotted a couple of foxes drinking from the river's bank at the opposite side. Plus, she had slain, not too long ago, a bear.

" _So many…._ "

Suddenly, a memory from her childhood flashed through her mind. She remembered when she was visiting with her family one of the last remaining traditional zoos on Earth. Unlike the modern ones which mostly had holograms, that one had actual living animals. She could not recall any emotions from that day, but she knew that they must have been some strong ones if she was still able to remember it. The memory lingered for a while in her mind before it faded away.

"Wait a moment!" Ralof said before climbing on a mound _– off road-_ where three seemingly similar large boulders stood, overseeing the lake behind them.

She didn't follow him but she observed him because she needed to find out more about this place and every little bit of knowledge may prove useful in the future. She noticed that the boulders had human figures carved on them. Ralof knelt as if he was praying and after a few moments, she could have sworn that she saw a pale beam of blue light shooting off towards the sky, but she was not really sure so she ignored it.

"Sorry for that." He apologized as he came down.  
"I just wanted to pray to the Warrior's standing stone. They say that each standing stone holds some kind of magical power which it grants to people who pray to it.  
Yet I am not really sure if that's true or just a myth."

An unimportant fact for Widowmaker who decided to disregard it as a mere fairytale. Little did she know that one of the thirteen standing stones would save her life one of the following days.

After about a little more than half an hour's walk, they were finally at Riverwood. Aside from a couple of wolves which attacked them and which Widowmaker dispatched in the blink of an eye - stabbing the first one through the eye and the second one through the top of his skull - the rest of the journey proceeded smoothly. Once again Ralof was amazed at how quickly she reacted to danger and with her fighting prowess.

"Here we are! Welcome to my hometown, Riverwood." He said in a jolly tone, hoping to see a reaction from her, to no avail of course.  
"My sister and her husband will probably be on their mill now. Let's go see."

Widowmaker crossed the gates and walking in a slow pace behind Ralof, she carefully inspected her surroundings, memorizing the layout of the small village and observing its denizens. She saw some kids playing with a dog, a blacksmith hammering on his forge, two women conversing next to a cart with cabbages and finally her eyes met with an old woman's who was sitting on the porch of the first house after the gate; the old lady stared at Widowmaker for a while before she averted her attention to a blond man who came out of the house.

"A dragon! I saw a dragon! It flew right above my head!"

"A dragon? Come on now mother, don't start with your nonsense again. I just woke up. I was performing until late at the inn and I'm tired.  
It's tough being a bard!" he said stretching his arms.

" _He looks annoying…_ " Widowmaker thought, looking at the blond-haired man.

"Gerdur!" Ralof shouted to a woman who was chopping wood with an axe.

She turned around and as soon as she saw Ralof she dropped the axe and went to greet him.  
"Mara's Mercy, its good to see you, brother!" she hugged him.  
"What are you doing here? Were you on a mission nearby? Were you attacked by the Imperials?" the blonde woman asked in quick succession while simultaneously brushing away the splinters from her bleached, green dress.

"Gerdur... I'm fine. At least for now I am." Ralof reassured her sister.

"Are you hurt? What's happened?" her gaze fell on Widowmaker. "And who's this? One of your comrades?"

"Not a comrade yet...but a friend. I owe her my life, in fact. Is there somewhere we can talk? There's no telling when the news from Helgen will reach the Imperials..."

"Helgen? Has something happened...? You're right. Follow me.  
Hod! Come here a minute. I need your help with something." Gerdur called _–loudly -_ a blonde, mustached man who was unloading a wooden log on the mill's jigsaw

"What is it, woman? Sven drunk on the job again?"

"Hod. Just come here." Gerdur said to her husband.

"By my moustache, Ralof! What are you doing here? Ah...I'll be right down!"

"Uncle Ralof!" Widowmaker heard a kid's voice and then saw a little boy with wavy blond hair running towards them. He ran to Ralof's side and started asking questions enthusiastically.  
"Can I see your axe, uncle? How many Imperials have you killed? Do you really know Ulfric Stormcloak?" He asked in rapid-fire mode.

" _Hush,_ Frodnar. This is no time for your games. Go and watch the south road. Find us if you see any Imperial soldiers coming."

"Aw, mama, I want to stay and talk with uncle Ralof!"

"Look at you, almost a grown man! Won't be long before you'll be joining the fight yourself!" said Ralof, patting the little boy on the head.

"That's right! Don't worry uncle Ralof, I won't let those soldiers sneak up on you!" The boy said as he puffed his chest in pride before running away.

Hod then walked up to them and joined their conversation.  
"Now, Ralof, what's going on? You two look pretty well done in." he asked.

"I can't remember the last time I slept. Where to start? Ulfric was travelling to Bruma to meet up with some allies who were supposed to help us. I was part of his guard, but we were ambushed by the Imperials on our way to Cyrodil-Skyrim's border, a few miles away from here. I don't know how they knew about that.  
That happened yesterday night. Afterwards, they tied up any survivors and took us all to Helgen to execute us. When morning came, I thought it was all over. They had us lined up for the headsman's block and ready to start chopping!"

"The cowards!" Gerdur uttered angry.

"They wouldn't dare give Ulfric a fair trial. Treason, for fighting for your own people they said!  
All of Skyrim would have seen the truth then! But then...out of nowhere...a dragon attacked."

" _Skyrim…? Is this how this land is called?_ " Widowmaker remembered hearing that name back when she was tied up on the carriage, but she hadn't given it much thought then.

"You don't mean a real, live..."

"I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there! As strange as it sounds, we'd be dead if not for that dragon. In the confusion, we managed to slip away. Are we really the first to make it to Riverwood?"

"Nobody has come up from the south road today, as far as I know."

"Good. Maybe we can lay up for a while. I'd hate to put your family in danger, Gerdur, but..."

"Nonsense! You and your friend are welcome to stay as long as you need. Let me worry about the Imperials. Any friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine."  
Gerdur's hand reached for her dress' pocket, she took out a key and gave it to Widowmaker who hesitantly took it.  
"Here's the spare key to the house. Feel free to eat, drink and stay as much as you like and also you can take some of my clothes as well, you can't go around wearing those rags."

Widowmaker silently listened to her, waiting for the _catch_ on the woman's offer. Life had taught her that nobody gives out so much without asking something huge in return.

"Though, I have to ask a favor to ask of you. There's something you can do for me. For all of us. We need to send word to Jarl Balgruuf to send whatever troops he can. Riverwood is defenseless. If you do that for me, everyone here will be in your debt.  
I would ask Ralof, but since he is with the Stormcloaks, it is dangerous for him to go in the city, let alone seek an audience with the Jarl. So, can you go deliver that message for us?"

" _This seems too good to be true. But still…she doesn't look like she's hiding something. Anyway, it's a favor for a favor in the end._ " Widowmaker nodded at her, a bit _surprised_ with the woman's generosity.

Aside from her life-experiences in her own world, her lack of empathy was the actual reason that she could not bring herself to trust Gerdur. She was simply unable to realize that people can actually be good and act kindly without asking much in return, something that she, herself hadn't experienced for years, even before her indoctrination.

She didn't believe that people are born evil, but rather their personality was molded based on various, external stimuli as they grow. Yet having lived a life in misery among double-faced, backstabbing, hateful people her trust on humans was extremely low; and her suffering at the hands of Talon certainly worsened that effect.

"Thanks, sister. I knew I could count on you." Ralof said to Gerdur, snapping Widowmaker back to reality as she seemed lost in thoughts for a moment.

"I ought to get back to work before I'm missed, but did anyone else escape? Did Ulfric..."

"Don't worry. I'm sure he made it out. It'll take more than a dragon to stop Ulfric Stormcloak!"

"Okay then, I'll let them into the house and, you know, show them where everything is." said Hod.

"Hhmm… Help them drink up our mead, you mean!" Gerdur said before facing Ralof.  
"I am glad you are okay, brother. I'll see you later."

Hod lead them to the house while also giving Widowmaker a tour of Riverwood, telling her about the whereabouts and its people, leaving for the end their village's latest addition, the public, hot baths. Apparently it was the idea of the general goods shop owner and his sister who had enough about bathing in the ice cold water of the stream. A view which the rest of the village did not share, since Nords are naturally resistant to cold. In the end they managed to convince the rest of the villagers and they all contributed to the building of the baths.

"There is yesterday's food in the pot and mead in the drawers. Eat and drink as much as you like. And make sure to rest, gods know how much you need it.  
I am going back at the mill. We will talk more later." He turned to leave when he remembered something.  
"Ooh! And today is the only day we use the baths. So if you want to clean up you can visit them at the evening." He said and left them.

"I never expected that Riverwood would have that kind of thing…" Ralof muttered.  
"Anyway, let's go inside." He said, as he stepped inside his old family home.

Widowmaker followed him inside, closing the door behind her. She didn't expect much, but she could recognize that the interior had a cozy feeling in it, at least that's what her logical brain concluded from the surrounding clues.

Two beds opposite to each other - one double, one single- a fireplace with a cooking pot hanging above, a wooden table with two benches at its side and various woodenware on it, a small, single shelf with books on it and another, multi-layered one with all sorts of food on its upper shelves and several bottles lined up on the bottom, there was also a small trapdoor which possibly lead to the cellar.

"Have a seat, I'll serve us in a moment. Why don't you go change until then?  
My sister's clothes are in that drawer. " Ralof said as he took off his leather armor, gloves and boots, leaving himself wearing only his blue undertunic and his pants.

" _It's a good thing I can't smell I suppose…_ " she thought looking at Ralof's dirty boots as she headed for the drawer.  
" _It would be difficult to fight in a dress, but I think I can manage for now.  
Let's see…rouge, bleu, blanc and…pourpre! Hmmm that should do! _" She took out a long, purple skirt with a black, leather bodice attached to it and closed the drawer.

Normally for her missions she would wear whatever they would give her and she would never pay any thought to her clothes. However, whether there was a reason about why she picked that dress and not the rest, it was unknown. Strangely enough though she remembered her favorite flower, the nightshade.

She took off her top and was halfway through the bottom part she was stopped by a noise. It was a wooden bowl which had fallen from Ralof's hands as soon as she saw her half-naked figure.  
"Whoah- I thought that you would go out to—"

She ignored him and continued, she could not feel embarrassment after all and she was also used to being seen naked by strangers thanks to her regular medical examinations by Talon scientists. She removed her pants and put on the dress, she carefully tied up the laces of the bodice around the waist and the chest. Because of the fact that she was taller than Gerdur and thanks to her godlike body proportions, the dress looked more lewd than it should on her and Ralof couldn't help but notice it too; she gave off the feeling of a tavern wench. The fact that she had seen her almost nude a moment ago didn't help to change that opinion. He decided to go back to serving them food before saying something that he would regret.

Widowmaker then ripped off the footwraps which the Imperial had put on her; she saw that her feet had blisters, probably because of her walking on sharp stones all this time, but she gave them no second thought as they didn't annoy her at all. She saw a nice pair of fur boots which she was sure that they would keep her feet warm and prevent her from suffering frostbite. She could not feel the cold, but she was worried about the damage which it could do to her body if she was not careful. Her normal clothes had some insulation, so she never changed an outfit unless the mission was in a really cold place. But now she had to actually remember to warm up herself from time to time.

Finally she joined Ralof on the table and together they ate some cold rabbit stew from yesterday, bread with goat cheese and also drank a couple of bottles of nord mead. They were eating their food in awkward silence – at least for Ralof it was like that. Ralof enjoyed talking and sharing a good laugh over the fire with his comrades while they were drinking their mead and telling each other how many Imperials they had killed. Widowmaker may not have been his comrade-in-arms, but she still had saved his life and he wanted to know her a bit better. Up until now they were on the run so he thought that she was silent because of that. With that in mind, he tried to initiate a conversation with her.

"So… _ehm…_ is the food okay?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Widowmaker lifted her head and looked at him with her usual apathetic look on her eyes.  
 _"I suppose I should just nod at him, it's not like I can taste the food…"_

Seeing her reaction, Ralof blinked surprised. "Oooh…I see, I am glad you like it…  
 _By Ysmir how can she like that crap? She's probably just being polite, I guess. How can my sister not know how to properly make stew after all this time._ "

Some minutes passed. "And…are the clothes to your liking…?"

" _Is that hair in the soup? Ugh…_ " She sneered.

"Ooh! I am sorry about that. You can probably find some better clothes to wear when you get to Whiterun…you can also try asking Lucan if he has any, he sometimes orders dresses from the Imperial City for his sister. Well actually his sisters orders them for herself, Lucan knows that Nord women don't really care for fashion or at least here in Riverwood they don't, I bet things are different in big cities like Solitude or Windhelm. That reminds me-"

" _Oh mon dieu….he does not stop talking…_ " She sighed as Ralof kept blabbering.

"Anyway, you never told me your name. We've been through so much together—"

" _We know each other for less than a day though…_ "

"I think it is appropriate to get to know each other. You know mine so…"

"Amelie…" she answered almost immediately.

Then a sudden blankness overcame her mind. She had no idea why she answered and most importantly why she had given him her true name – her former one at least – it simply popped into her mind when she heard his question. She thought that she had gotten over it - a decade had passed since she had last used that name. Widowmaker was her identity now, Amelie Lacroix was dead or so she thought.

"Amelie…? That's a strange name. Never heard of it before. I guess you Dark Elves have some weird names– _hahah..._ "

" _Dark elves…?_ " her face took a weird expression which to Ralof seemed like frowning .

"Oh no! I meant no offense to your people of course-"

" _It's good that I pass as one of the races of this land…_ "

"- it is true that some Nords, especially back in Windhelm do not hold Dark Elves into such a high regard, calling them gray-skins and other insulting nicknames. But I have no problem with you. The only elves I hate are those damned Thalmor!"

" _My skin is actually purple…_ "

" _Yawn_ " Ralof stood up and stretched his arms and legs.  
"I don't know about you, but I am dead tired. I will probably sleep like a log.  
Hod and Gerdur won't be here until early evening. We can get a good rest until then.  
I'll sleep on Frodnar's bed. You can sleep on the double."

Without saying anything Widowmaker stood up and headed for the bed. She was about to undress, but she held back. She always slept naked and that was a habit which had persisted with her even after her brainwashing. Instead she simply removed the bodice around her chest and lied down wearing only the purple dress which looked like a night gown now. She did not feel tired –she simply could not. Technically she could push herself to the limits and go without sleep for days, more than a normal human could, thanks to her significantly lower pulse rate. The only reason she slept was so that her body wouldn't collapse from exhaustion involuntarily.

Normally she would never let her guard down so easily and sleep next to a stranger in an unknown house, but that thought never occurred to her all this time. She lied down, face up and closed her eyes. Not two minutes had passed and an obnoxiously loud noise prevented her from falling asleep. It was Ralof's snoring.

"Ugh…" She closed her eyes again and tried to ignore it, but after a few moments her eyelids were wide open.  
"Ç'est né pas possible!" she uttered in a louder voice than she would normally use.  
" _I should have asked for directions to that city, Whiterun, before he fell asleep. I could be on my way there…_ " with a defeated sigh Widowmaker gave up and started staring at the wooden ceiling with nothing in her mind- something unusual of her.

She always slept in a completely soundproof room back in every Talon's base she had been. Normal people would be uncomfortable staying in a room where no other sounds could be heard, but she was far from normal. So every time when she went to sleep, she would count the seconds until that moment in order to keep her mind occupied. Even with her inability to feel anything, her brain still operated in a manner as to make her forget that nothing could be heard inside that room. She did not know how much time had passed and she stopped caring at some point, she decided to close her eyes and wait…

 _Smash_

The sound of a glass shattering made her jump off her bed fully on alert mode. She looked around and saw no one, not even Ralof. She tried to concentrate her eyes on the broken glass, but she couldn't, everything was a blur. She looked back at her bed and it was gone, instead at its place there was her old bed, back from when she was still Amelie Lacroix and she was married to Gerard Lacroix; a bigger than usual double bed carved out of red mahogany wood, it was covered in lacy sheets made of silk. She looked around the house, but that was gone as well, she was standing in her old bedroom, next to her bed. Suddenly a wind blew as the room's door opened and a woman walked inside.

"No…gah…no…stop! Stoooop!" She yelled at the top of her lungs.

She opened her eyes. One moment she was sleeping soundly and the next, she was wide awake. It took her a few moments before realizing that she was not in some Talon's base. She heard fire cackling and the sound of something falling on the ground, suddenly she was on edge. She jumped off the bed, battle-ready, but before her there was only Ralof, eating some kind of sandwich.

"I'm sowwy…" He said with full mouth after a brief pause.

Widowmaker's shoulders dropped relaxed as she removed her hand from the dagger which she had in her dress' pocket and which she was about to draw.

" _Gulp-gulp_. Sorry, for waking you up. I accidentally dropped that bottle as I went to reach for the knife." He said after gulping down his food.

Without saying anything Widowmaker went to tie her leather bodice around her chest.

" _How could I have let my guard down and fallen asleep next to a stranger…? And why am I covered in sweat? Is it because I slept so close to a fireplace? Still…it wasn't the noise which woken me up._ "

"By the way, Frodnar passed by earlier when you sleeping and told me that the women get the first shift at the hot baths for this week. If you wish to take a warm bath, you should go join them now, unless you like bathing in the stream like I do. I can't stand hot baths at all!" Ralof said and then drank a sip from his bottle.

" _Is it evening already? That means that I slept throughout the day – how?  
Was I so tired?_"

Widowmaker slept rarely and even when she did, she required minimum amount of sleep, three to four hours were to enough to keep her going for at least two days straight. There are few people in the world who need less sleep than the rest. Amelie Lacroix was not one of them, but thanks to the tons of the chemicals which she had been injected with and the extensive neural reconditioning which her brain suffered, now her body was able to recover in less than four hours sleep. Yet now, for some reason she had slept throughout the entire day which she confirmed herself seeing as the sun had set when she stepped outside the house. That incident also made her forget about her waking-up state.

Silently agreeing with Ralof suggestion she headed for the hot baths. As she walked along the village, she saw various other people which she hadn't seen in the morning. They were heading for the inn. She didn't turn to look at them, but she noticed the lecherous stares which she was receiving from some of them. She then saw the blond man from the morning coming towards her.

"Hi, I'm a bard by trade. Name's Sven, perhaps you've heard of me. You should come see me at the inn later." He said and left.

 _"I was right. He is annoying." A smirk formed on her lips without her realizing._

Widowmaker arrived at the baths' hut which was located just next to Gerdur's mill in order to have easy access to firewood in case the fire went off. The moment she got there she was greeted with loud exclamations and shouting.

"So you came! Good, good. Hope you had a good rest in our home." Widowmaker nodded silently at Gerdur.  
"We were just about to go in."

"Who is this woman, Gerdur?" asked a woman with auburn hair.

"She….she is a friend of the family, Sigrid. She arrived this morning and we let her sleep in our house." Gerdur said, glancing meaningfully at Widowmaker whose expression remained unchanged.

" _I wonder why she did not mention him. Is it because of that cause he's fighting for?_ "

"A traveler! I'm sure you have plenty of stories to share with us." said a woman with long dark hair. She was close to Widowmaker's age, possibly a bit younger.

"Ma! I wanna enter the bath!" said the youngest member to the woman with auburn hair.

"I think that the fire is just right. We can go in." Gerdur said.

"Finally! My bones are killing me!" shouted the old woman who bolted inside. Widowmaker recognized her from the gate in the morning.

They rest followed the old woman with hustle. Widowmaker entered last and was met with a white, cloud of steam in the face. She had to admit that it was an impressive construction, considering their tools. The whole hut had been built with sturdy, wooden logs, in order to trap the heat and was suspended above ground on stone columns; below the hut, a huge, oval-shaped oven had been installed and was connected with the hut with a wide pipe which acted as the heat medium from the marble tub which had been filled with water from the stream.

However the experience was bad for Widowmaker or as she would characterize it _annoying._ If there were two or even three people, she might not had an issue, but there were 6 of them in the tub; and as she later came to know there was one more who didn't come, the innkeeper Delphine. Also to everyone's surprise Widowmaker was the only one among them who was bathing completely naked in contrast with the rest who kept on their underwear. Apparently the term _bathing_ had other meaning for them since they spent all the time, sitting inside the hot water without scrubbing themselves.

"S _o much needless human contact…._ " she shook her head annoyed.

"Mommy what are those drawings on her arm?" asked the little girl, pointing at Widowmaker's arm tattoos.

"I told you not to point at people, Dorthe. It's bad manners." Her mother scolded her.

"Actually I was a bit curious as well. That one on your back looks kinda scary. Is it a spider? And why can't water wash them away? Are they magical?" the young black haired woman said.

"No you too, Camilla." Sigrid said frustrated; she then turned to face Widowmaker. "They won't stop until they have their answers. They are both very persistent."

Widowmaker looked back and forth between Camillla and Dorthe who were awaiting her reply with anticipation and she knew that the only way to get rid of those two annoyances was to say something.  
"Ugh…yes, it's magic. They do…magical things - _what am I even saying_ \- and yes, that's a spider." She said in an awkward tone.

"Hahahah….your voice is funny!" the little girl said laughing.

"Dorthe!" Her mother raised her voice.

" _Funny? What is that brat saying?_ "

"She means your accent." Camilla popped up. "Are you from High Rock by any chance? Some Bretons I've met back in the Imperial City talked somehow like that."

Widowmaker looked back at Camilla with a blank look on her face. She didn't know how to respond to any of this and she certainly didn't expect to hear that her _voice is funny_ by a kid; plus all those names _High Rock, Bretons etc._ meant nothing to her. However as she stared at the women in the bath acting all rowdy and shouting at each other for stupid reasons she suddenly remembered a similar experience which she had; a hot spa hotel, a group of young ballet dancers and lots of French wine.

"I think we stayed long enough, we should- huh? Are you okay? Your eyes looks kinda…wet. Did the steam make your eyes teary?" Gerdur suddenly asked Widowmaker.

She blinked twice and then after a brief pause turned to face Gerdur. When she realized what Gerdur had just said, Widowmaker quickly rubbed her eyes with her elbows and then stood up and grabbed her clothes. She put on her boots and the purple dress in a hurry and without tying up her bodice she left the wooden hut, leaving them behind dumbfounded.

"Was it something we said?" Camilla asked.

"Really Camilla? You made her cry because of your nosiness." Gerdur said.

"How was it my fault? I just asked her a question." Camilla objected.

"Nords never ask a stranger all these personal questions when they first meet him. They just sit and-" Sigrid said.

"Well, sorry I am not a Nord then…" Camilla retorted.

" _Sigh-_ Let's just drop this here. Tomorrow you two will go apologize to her." Gerdur said and Sigrid nodded.

"Fine…" they both said in unison, accepting defeat.

"Good girls. Now, one of you wake up Hilde who is about to drown again and let's get out of here." Sigrid said and after dressing up they headed to the inn.

But that apology did not happen, not the following day at least.


	3. On The Road

_Hello everyone,_

 _I am back with a new chapter. I wasn't intenting at first to write a whole chapter for Widowmaker's journey to Whiterun, but I quite liked how it turned out and had fun writing it._  
 _I hope that you too will enjoy it! :)_

* * *

 _"_ _-Did the steam make your eyes teary?"_

Those words spoken by Gerdur still echoed inside Widowmaker's head. A simple question, which held no malice or ill-intent, or any secret meanings behind it whatsoever. However that innocent question was enough to trigger an emotional breakdown to Widowmaker who at the time was recalling a memory from when she was attending the Paris Opera Ballet School; the memory was involving a trip to a luxurious spa, a group of young French female ballerinas and a lot of wine.

When she realized that what Gerdur had said was true, she just left the baths without saying anything. As for the _why_ , one thing was for certain, she simply did not know why she stormed off all of a sudden; she just felt the urge to be left alone, far from annoying, prying eyes. After leaving the baths, Widowmaker did not return to Gerdur's home, instead she prepared to leave the village. She put on the rest of her clothes hastily, strapped her elven dagger on her back-hip, using one of the spare strings of the bodice as a makeshift belt and left the village in the middle of the night, like in a fugitive on the run.

Thankfully for her she knew which way the city of Whiterun was, because a little before her sudden crisis in the bathhouse, she heard the rest of the women talking about it. Apparently, it was much closer than she initially thought; less than half a day's walk from Riverwood. So even though she was wet, underdressed for the cold night and a total stranger in the land of Skyrim, she departed with due haste through the north gate, without saying as much as a farewell to the people who took care of her.

" _Why does my head hurt? Ce n'est pas possible—_ argh! _"_ she groaned, nearly tripping from the sudden sting of pain on her temples.

She briefly stopped in the middle of the stone bridge which connected the two sides of the river.  
"What's going on with me?" she muttered in a low voice.  
 _"Why am I acting so weird? Why did I run off?  
I wasn't crying –I wasn't in any kind of pain. Why would I cry? But then why…  
Why can't I get those words out of my head?! And what was I thinking back then…_Augh! _"_ She let out a muffled grunt of pain and touched her forehead.  
 _"Did I suffer an internal injury in the head when I was being beaten by those soldiers?  
Is that why I am acting so weird?" _her eyes widened.  
"If so, I need to find aid as soon as possible or I will - die…?" She said questionably and suddenly fell silent.  
 _"Why does that bother me? I do not fear death! I cannot feel-"  
_ She shook her head. "I need to get to the city!" she said out loud and finally hit the road for Whiterun.

* * *

"Out of my inn, you drunken lout! " the angry shout of woman broke the silence of the night and the inn's doors opened.

"You can't do this….I hav - I have rights! Ya can't kick me out!" The drunkard protested in a nearly incoherent manner.

"Go get some air Embry and don't come back inside until you sober up." A short, blonde woman yelled at him and pulled him outside the inn with surprisingly little effort.

The rag-wearing drunkard tripped on the inn's wooden steps and fell on the ground face first and stayed like this.

"Nords…" the woman mumbled with a frown on her face.

But as she was about to head back inside, her eye caught a peculiar figure exiting the bathhouse in a hurry and heading towards the inn. The blonde innkeeper hid behind the half open door of the inn and observed her. The woman ran past the inn, ignoring poor Embry who had collapsed outside and headed for the village's northern exit. She had heard from the patrons in the inn that a bodacious _–their words-_ stranger was in Riverwood and was staying in Gerdur's home.

" _This must be her. Even from here I can see that they were not exaggerating.  
_ Why is she running like a _-"_ The innkeeper froze in place for a moment, thinking of the worst.

She noticed from afar that the strange woman staggered quite a few times as she crossed the bridge outside the village, but she had no time to worry about her now. She darted to the baths prepared for the worst, but as soon as she was about to barge inside, she heard loud voices and laughter and her shoulders dropped relaxed.

"I'm being paranoid…" she mumbled and headed back to inn.

"Deplhine, why did you let that door open? It's freezing outside?" A man with short, dark hair complained.

"Don't be such a milkdrinker, Lucan. It's merely a breeze." said a blond man with a thick beard.

"Hah…you tell him Alvor!" Hod joined the conversation.

" _Puhh…_ I am a normal person, not a thick-skinned Nord like you two." Lucan said.

"Huh? Who you calling thick-skinned?" Hod asked, raising his voice.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry Lucan. How about I buy you all the next round?" Delphine said.

She knew that if she would let them continue with the talking, their conversation would probably lead to a brawl and possibly lots of broken bottles, they were Nords after all, that's what they do.  
"Orgnar, a free round of drinks for everyone. On the house!" Deplhine said to the man behind the bar.

"Hoh! Now, that's the innkeeper we know and love. Cheers for Delphine!" Alvor shouted as he raised his mug and the rest followed his example.

"Hmphh Nords…" Delphine mumbled lowly with a faint smile on her lips.

* * *

Widowmaker had been fast-walking for about 1 hour now. Up until a while ago the lights of Riverwood were still in sight, but once she took a turn along the mountain trail which she was following, she found herself amidst pitch black darkness, though it mattered little to her. She was only afraid of one thing and that was not darkness, in fact she felt in her element walking amongst the shadows.

 _Wooosh_

The winds were chilly, but fortunately for her she could not feel the cold sting of Skyrim's cold night. A normal person would be physically incapable to move at her speed while wearing so little clothing on them atop of being wet from bathing. A normal person would be on the verge of collapsing right now, but she was not normal, not even a little.

 _Owoooooo_

Bloodcurdling howls pierced the silence of night and Widowmaker caught a glance of the figure of a four-legged creature coming out from behind some rocks up on the mountain slope.

 _"_ _Wolves…."_

And all of a sudden six wolves came out of hiding and ran to surround their victim while barking at her.

"I should have brought one of those torches with me…what an annoyance!" Widowmaker sighed as she took out her dagger.

The wolf pack slowly circled around her, growling threateningly with their bright yellow eyes locked on her the whole time. Widowmaker assumed a defensive position, knees slightly bent, her dagger in her right hand in reverse grip and her left hand near her neck to protect it from biting.

" _Six…but more may be waiting around._ "

Two wolf pups lunged at her from behind, attempting to bite her calves; the first one managed to dig its teeth in her fur boot, without hurting her. At that moment Widowmaker turned around and with merciless kick sent the second wolf pup flying in the cold river and shook off the first one from her boot.

She turned around and came face to face with four charging wolves. Two lunged at her with their claws and the other two went for her legs again. She dodged the first lunger and kicked the first biter on the jaw, but she was scratched on the elbow by the claws of the other second biter found an opportunity and bit the same leg from before, ripping a piece of her boots and her flesh.

Feeling no pain at all, Widowmaker stabbed the one who bit her through its ear, instantly killing it and dashed away towards the river; if she was to fight multiple enemies it would be better to do it without having to watch her back.

The remaining wolves of the pack gathered round, a wolf pup and three adult wolves from which, one was gravely wounded. The wolves slowly approached her, but stopped a few meters away from her and waited, growling at her menacingly.

 _"_ _What are they waiting for?"_

And then as she suspected more wolves – four in total- jumped out from hiding and ran to their direction. Widowmaker noticed that among them there was a single wolf bigger than the rest. It had thick black fur and blue eyes.

 _"_ _That must be the alpha of the pack…"_

The alpha howled signaling the rest to attack and so they did. Two wolves lunged at her, but anticipating their attack, she dodged the first and smacked the second one's head with a rock which she had picked up from the river bank and then masterfully tossed the rock on the first which backed away whimpering.

Three more charged at her barking. Two lunged at her from the sides, but she stood her ground and held them off with her arms, they bit her on the elbows, but that did not faze her. The third one jumped on her as well and was met with a deadly boot on the nose. Widowmaker kneed the wolf on her right which backed away staggering. Then with her free hand, she stabbed the wolf on her left through the mouth and before its body hit the ground, Widowmaker dashed towards the alpha.

The eyes of two bloodthirsty predators met; one was out for blood and the other one was simply out for its food. The alpha sensing the imminent danger barked and charged at her with the rest following behind. It jumped high, baring its sharp teeth at her and attempted to bite her neck and bring her down with its weight. But thanks to her sharp reflexes, she managed to dodge the attack and instead went for the weakened members of the packs; basically applying wolf hunting tactics against them.

She kicked the young pup which crashed against a boulder and went limp and then with a graceful maneuver she avoided the wounded wolf's claws and stabbed it from underneath the jaw. Three wolves remaining.

Normally the wolves would have already given up on her, but it was vital to find food for themselves and the rest of the pack. The other two wolves were intimidated from the strength of their supposed victim and were hesitant to attack her again. Yet the alpha charged at her once more and so they went to aid the leader of their pack.

They attacked her from both sides, the two wolves from the left and the alpha from the right. Widowmaker instinctively knew that the wolves were afraid of her so she decided to dispatch the weak first and leave the big one for dessert; her adrenaline levels were through the roof at the moment.

She sidestepped to the left, avoiding the alpha's attack and just as the two other wolves lunged at her, she stabbed one through its open mouth and delivered a powerful hook on the second wolf's nose. The one which had its mouth stabbed collapsed on the ground and cried loudly in pain and the other fled towards the mountains. It was only her and the alpha now.

Yellow eyes met blue eyes. The wolf barked twice before running towards her in an attempt to bite her. She avoided the jump and kicked the wolf on its belly, sending it towards the river bank, it let out a cry of pain, but it stood back up and growled at her. It realized that it was now trapped, the hunter had become the prey. Her yellow eyes gleamed with excitement as bloodlust overcame her sense of reason.

 _"_ _At the moment of the kill they are never more alive"_

As she was about to finish off her prey Widowmaker hesitated, she froze momentarily in place and lowered her dagger. The cornered animal noticed that reaction and lunged at her, catching her off guard. It knocked her down, disarming her in the process – she snapped back to reality. The beast had pinned her down and was furiously trying to bite her, she had managed in the nick of time to cover her neck and face with her hands and the beast was gnawing on them. She was in a bind, she could not let her guard down in order to attack and the beast was not showing any sign of letting go.

 _Owoooooo_

A dreaded howl echoed from the mountains. Much louder than the one from before. The wolf looked away momentarily and that was all the time that she needed. She punched it on the nose which caused it to stagger, she punched it again and then kicked it away from her. Before it had the chance to recover, she lunged at it, knocking it on the ground, she grabbed its head and smacked it against a rock.

One time, two times, three, four, five until its head was a bloody mess of bits of brain and black fur. She tried to stand up, but she couldn't, her vision was blurry. She blinked and tried to focus her eyes, but couldn't. She saw that she was bleeding heavily from her arms, the alpha had done quite some damage on them.

"No…" She mumbled weakly as she tried to crawl back on the road with no success.

She saw two black, hairy figures approaching her. She raised her hand and opened her mouth, but collapsed without uttering a word.

* * *

 _Next Chapter: The amazing Nazeem_ :D


	4. Whiterun

_At the moment of the kill, they are never more alive…"_

That was her motto which she lived by. A false truth which her brain had made her believe in order to prevent a mental breakdown. A self-defense mechanism which she developed in order to deal with her total lack of emotion. It was ironic though. Her fear of spiders was ultimately what had kept her sane all those years.

She was looking through her sniper rifle's scope. She saw tall buildings, but could not make out any more details; everything else was a blur. A light appeared in her field of vision and she zoomed in. Various people came into her field of view, but their faces were blurred as well, except for one. One whom she could see clear as a day, she knew that face; she knew it very well. It was her victim's face, an unfortunate soul who had been marked for death by Talon and she had been sent to do the job, Tekhartha Mondatta, the founder of the Shambali order in Nepal – the first omnic monk order - and the prime contributor to Omnic-human peace. Her lips brought to an evil smile, adrenaline rushed through her veins, her heart pumped faster than normal. Her motto came into her mind as she pulled the trigger without hesitation. That was her finest kill to date.

She opened her eyes – total darkness. She blinked once and tried to stand up, but she found out that all of her limbs were restrained. She struggled, but nothing, her strains were too tight. She widened her eyes, but she still couldn't see anything in the pitch darkness; then she saw some glowing orange lights descending from above. The lights drew closer and stopped right in front of her face, she blinked again and then all of a sudden the room was lit. She was stuck on a gigantic spider's web and an oversized spider was creeping on her; she felt its cold gaze on her, she shivered as the spider drew closer. She struggled more fiercely, but all she managed was to tire herself out, she could not break free from the sticky web, the broodmother approached and brought down its fangs on her chest.

 _"At last, a worthy champion has appeared! Receive my gift and continue your tiny subversions against the orders of trust and intimacy and I shall appear again!"_

"Waaaah!" She woke up screaming.  
 _Huff-huff-huff-huff-huff_ " Widowmaker jolted awake, covered in sweat and panting as if she had just finished a long sprint.

She instinctively looked around the cramped room, but nothing in particular stood out. She was in an unfamiliar place. She was lying on a wooden bed with straw as mattress and beside her - on the nightstand- there were some empty, small vials and bandages.

"Where am I?" She mumbled lowly.

She heard metal clanking noises and then the wooden door opened with a creak and a tall man clad in armor entered; their gazes met. Widowmaker instinctively clenched her fists and prepared for a fight, but after a few moments of awkward silence she realized that that man was not a threat to her. At first glance he looked intimidating due to his rugged and unkempt appearance and his size, but Widowmaker sensed no hostility coming off from him.

"Hey…I came to check up on you." He finally said. His voice was hoarse and he spoke slowly.  
"I hope that you've rested well. You were in a pretty bad shape last night when Aela and Skjor brought you here last night. I'm Farkas by the way."

Then, as it had just occurred to her. Widowmaker started checking her whole body for wounds. Nothing! All of her wounds from yesterday had been mended; in their place, there were only some small pinkish scars.

"You were in quite a bad shape, but fortunately we had some spare health potions."

" _Health potions?! Were they the same as the one that I drank back in the cave?_ "

"Well, you look like you could use some more rest, so I guess I should leave you alone." He was about to leave then he turned around.  
"I almost forgot! We have some new clothes for you _–he pointed with at the chair beside the door-_ Your old ones were in tatters; what's left of them is….underneath the bed."  
Farkas paused for a moment, trying to remember if he had forgotten anything else.

"My clothes…" Widowmaker mumbled lowly, almost nostalgically someone could say. She remembered the purple dress which she took from Gerdrur's home. She reached under the bed when she felt a burning sensation ravaging her head.

"Arrgh!" She grunted and touch her temples.

Her headache had returned. She started sweating and hyperventilating. The faces of her mother and father, her grandparents and her late husband rapidly flashed through her mind. She recalled memories from her childhood; from when she was but a toddler playing on the shores of the lake surrounding Chateau Guillard, her family's vacation home; a luxurious mansion in the middle of a lake close to the northern border of France.

"Hey-hey-hey! What's gotten into you?" She heard Farkas' voice in the distance.

Her vision cleared and she lifted her head, she came face to face with Farkas who was staring at her bewildered.

" _What is that buffoon staring at? –_ What do you want?" She asked coldly.

Farkas blinked, surprised with her reaction and moved away. "You were grasping your head and you were crying.  
It looked like you were in a lot of pain."

Widowmaker maintained her cool demeanor and said nothing. " _I was crying…? Surely that was intense pain, but I've had worse. How could I be crying…?_ "

"You must still be tired from yesterday. Anyway, I should leave you be for now.  
Give a shout if you need anything else."

"How is it possible that all of my wounds are healed?" She asked flatly.

"Health potions! We made you drink some while you were out." The man said and left the room.

" _Health potions?! Were they the same as the one that I drank back in the cave? But then again my head still hurts. Maybe they didn't cure my head trauma._ " She shook her head confused.  
"I have no idea what's going on anymore."

Widowmaker stood up and picked up the clothes which she had been given. Aside from the bandages on her arms and legs, she was completely naked. Strangely enough, they had given her men's clothing, a cotton tunic, a pair of fur pants and a pair of fur boots and even full body woolen underwear. She put them on and walked around a bit to see how they fitted. The pants were a bit loose, but she managed to tighten them with a makeshift sash which she created using he remains of Gerdur's purple dress.

She exited the room and found herself in a hall. The floor and the walls were made of wood and there were also various glass showcases with medieval weapons inside.

For a moment there Widomaker thought of taking some for herself, but as she approached the display where a pair of engraved, jet-black daggers were stored, she heard footsteps coming from behind and stopped altogether. And then, a moment later the door at the far-end of hall opened and an elderly man in a red tunic came out, accompanying him there was a much younger man. They were both carrying swords strapped on their waists, but the second one was also wearing his armor; a gray metal armor with a wolf head engraved on the chest.

Widowmaker looked at them and faked her best smile. Even though she could not feel anything, she had learnt how to express emotions. Sometimes her missions required social interaction and so she had to learn how to pass as a normal person.

The old man smiled back. "Glad to see that you are up. Farkas said that you looked a bit unwell when he checked on you a while ago." said the elderly man.

"No, I'm okay, just a bit dizzy that's all." She said in a reassuring tone.

"That's good! Were you admiring those daggers before we came in, perhaps?" the man asked.

She nodded. "They looked very…pretty!" She said after a small pause. What she meant though was " _I bet those daggers would be perfect to slice up people's throats without leaving a mess behind._ "

"Hahah—indeed they are! Too bad those over there are only replicas." he said.

"Replicas?" She asked.

"Yes, they are supposed to look like they are made of ebony, an extremely rare and expensive metal found only in Morrowind. In all of my life, only once, I've ever seen weapons and armor made of ebony. It was a redguard whom I've met whilst travelling the land and-"

"Master! You have an announcement to make." The young man beside him intervened.

"Ah yes! We should go! Excuse –us!" the old man said.

"I am sorry, but where are we?" Widowmaker asked curious. Now that was something that she actually wanted to know.

Surprisingly the young man was the one who answered. "Did that stupid brother of mine forgot to tell you even that?" he uttered somewhat frustrated. "You're in Whiterun and more precisely in Jorvaskrr, home of the Companions."

"Whiterun? Then, I guess I was lucky in my misfortune. Your city was my destination all along." She said while putting on the mask of the innocent lass.

"That's good I guess, but why would a helpless woman like you travel alone in the middle of the night?" The older man asked.

"I-I was in a rush…and I had a very important job here in your city and I had to travel during the night." Widowmaker replied trying to sound as innocent as possible.

"Well…that was stupid of you! No job is as important as a human life." The old man scolded her. "You were lucky that Aela and Skjor were hunting nearby and found you."

"According to Aela though, there were several dead wolves around her when they found her. I wouldn't exactly call her _helpless,_ master" the young man said.

"Really now? If you are that good of a fighter, maybe you should consider joining us. The companions are always looking for body-abled men and women to join their ranks." The older man said.

"Master…?" the other man tried to object, but to no avail, he was ignored.

"The Companions would train you in combat, offer you a steady job, food, lots of ale, a place to live and most importantly, comrades in arms whom you can trust with your life. And above all else you will find honor and glory in combat as you fight for us." The man said in a pompous tone.

" _Just perfect! Another troublesome individual….as if I hadn't met enough already.  
_ Ahem…I am sorry…but I will have to refuse your offer. I have…business to attend to…" Widowmaker replied politely.

"I see…that's a pity!" The old man sighed slightly. "In any case, you are free to stay here in Jorvaskrr until your wounds heal. But after that you will have to depart. Only the Companion may reside here in Jorvaskrr."

" _Don't worry! I will soon be free of your exceptional…company -_ I understand! I won't impose on you for long. Thank you again very much! " She said and bowed elegantly like a ballerina – one of her many talents.

Both were taken aback by her beauty and grace. "No…no need to thank us! We just did our duty as Companions!" The young man said a bit louder than normal.

"By the way, what's your name lass? I'm Kodlak Whitemane and this is Vilkas. You already met his brother Farkas before." the old man said.

"Amélie!" she replied with a smile.

At that moment, the world froze around Amelie. It was as if time stopped and she was the only one who could move and feel its passing.  
" _Amélie… Amélie…. Amélie…. Amélie…Amélie… Amélie Lacroix…..that's my name! Why did I have to think it twice before answering?  
That's my name! Yes! That is the name I was given…. Amélie Lacroix!_"

Amélie felt a violent shaking like a tremendous earthquake and a voice calling out to her.

" _Amélie!"_

"Amélie!" She heard two different voices calling out to her.

"Are you okay?!" Vilkas shook her by the shoulders and calling out her name.

"Hah!" Widowmaker instinctively grabbed Vilkas arm and with a twist of her legs she shifted her weight to the other side and knocked him down on the ground with a powerful slam – her judo training certainly had paid off.

At that moment, Widowmaker realized what she had just done. She looked at Kodlak only to see him staring at her with wide eyes

" _Excellent work child!_ "

She heard a commotion and suddenly a group of people came down the stairs from across the corrido only to find her atop of Vilkas grunting in pain. When they realized what they were looking at, they exclaimed.

" _Now, grab his sword and kill them all! I know you can!_ "

"Noooo!" She screamed and burst into a dash heading for the stairs.

"Stop her!" Kodlak shouted.

But before the other Companions could even comprehend what they were ordered to do, she was already climbing it. The door to the upper floor opened and Farkas showed up.

"Sorry for that!" he said and tried to grapple her with his huge arms.

Widowmaker almost mechanically, like a perfectly oiled killing machine countered his attack. A strong headbutt on the nose made him loosen his grapple on her and then with a swift kick on the groin and a violent punch in the eyes, she completely freed herself from him and ran upstairs where she headed for the nearest door.

She exited the building and found herself in a courtyard filled with wooden mannequins and people in medieval armor and weapons. Others were practicing their swings on the mannequins and others were sparring between themselves. No one paid any attention to her, probably hadn't heard the commotion yet. So, she had to disappear before it.

She traversed the courtyard and found herself atop of a hill overseeing a plaza with a huge tree in the middle; wooden houses with straw roofs were scattered here and there - it was then that she realized that the building which she was in until now, had an overturned wooden boat as a roof.  
People walking all around the place; most of them were dressed modestly and were carrying groceries and caskets filled with vegetables. However, Widowmaker's trained eye picked out a select few individuals amongst the crowd who appeared more _luxurious._ She also spotted a couple of armed men, wearing a full face helmets and holding a yellow shield with a white horse on it, probably some sort of police, she thought.

Her surveying of her surroundings lasted only for a few seconds, enough for her to quickly draw a map of the city in her head. Her original goal was to get her equipment back which some strange people called Thalmor had snatched from her when she was captured. According to Ralof, those Thalmor were heading back to their embassy. And the quickest way there, was to hire a carriage, travel to a city named Solitude and from there head to the so called Thalmor Embassy. Unfortunately for her, Ralof did not know where exactly that place was, but that was a problem for another day. Her current troubles took priority.

She needed to get out of the city, before word of her crime spread out and she had to find money and provisions. And for that the quickest way was to put her exceptional skills to works. She descended the white staircase leading to Jorvaskrr, walked past an extremely loud man who was preaching about some guy named Talos.

" _Mon dieu! Why all those people are so damn annoying?_ "

She stopped at the staircase leading up to the castle and stared at the grandiose wooden fortress which stood proudly from above, overlooking the city.

" _Yes…yes…come up here._ "

She blinked surprised. " _What was that? – Am I hearing voices now? It must be my head trauma!  
Whatever… the castle is too much of a risk….I should compromise on something smaller. Hmmm…..someone like that will do."_

Widowmaker spotted her prey and started tailing him. A tall man who to her eyes looked like a man of African descent; Widowmaker noticed jewelry on his fingers and a bouncing pouch strapped on his belt. Also his clothes were of a higher class than that of most people. The perfect target! She approached him from behind and when she was close enough she accelerated and collided with her shoulder on his.

"How barbaric?!" The man exclaimed annoyed.

"Pardon!" She said hurryingly, but before she could walk away, an arm grabbed her from behind.

Widowmaker withheld the instinct to take him down like the man before him as there were armed people all around her and she was already hunted. "W-what is it sir?" She asked in a trembling voice, without lifting her head.

"You fell on me and threatened my physical well-being. I expect a proper apology!  
I would ask you if you get to the Cloud District very often….but it's obvious you don't! Hahahah!  
However, even a brutish thug like you should know that when you fall on people you should apologize properly. Especially, if those people are people like me! – _Points at himself_ -  
People who advise the Jarl on political and economic matters regarding the city. But all those long words must sound alien to your petty little brain of yours.  
So just apologize and leave! "The man announced pompously.

She eyed him for a second before she fell on her knees and shouted.  
"Forgive me milord! I was oooh! So careless!" She touched his hands and shook them. "Ooh please do not report me to the guards! Forgive this poor idiot who can't even walk straight." She begged him in a pleading voice.

The man was taken aback by her performance for a moment, but he quickly snapped back. "Get away from me, pest! I don't want your filth on my clothes." He shouted and pushed her back violently. She fell on the ground hanging her head.  
"Hmpph….people these days!"

She waited for him to walk away and afterwards she quickly stood up, shook the dust off her clothes and hurried for the city exit. On her way out, she bought two steel daggers and a pair of fur gloves from the blacksmith near the city gate.

"Is this enough to pay for them?" Widowmaker showed her a silver ring with a red gemstone on it.

The blacksmith's eyes went wide when she saw the expensive ring.  
"More than enough….I will have to give you something extra if you pay me that much. How about this new bow I crafted and a dozen of arrows?" she asked.

Widwomaker thought about it for a moment and then nodded at her. " _Until I get back my sniper rifle…I suppose this would do._ "

So, armed and ready she walked out of the city gates and headed for the stables where she was told by the blacksmith that the carriage was located.

On the way down, she remembered the man she had robbed.  
"Ugh….and here I thought that there was no way to meet a more irritating person than her." The image of Helena's Oxton face flashed through her mind.


End file.
